


An Ideal Match (To Court, A Lady remix)

by citrinesunset



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 14:17:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19443133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinesunset/pseuds/citrinesunset
Summary: Emma Frost has ambitions. She isn't certain if Charles Xavier is the right husband to help her fulfill them, but she's too intrigued by him not to take a chance.





	An Ideal Match (To Court, A Lady remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lachatblanche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachatblanche/gifts).
  * Inspired by [To Court, A Lady](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17889884) by [lachatblanche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachatblanche/pseuds/lachatblanche). 



It was unwise to rush a marriage, lest people gossip about the reason. Besides, Emma had always enjoyed a good tease. Xavier was going mad with anticipation, which was exactly what she wanted. It seemed to her that being betrothed might be more fun than being married.

All the same, Emma was eager to seal the deal. Wedding night ardor and the domestic monotony of married life could wait; her ambitions and her wallet could not. And finding a suitable husband had not been easy. But Xavier's mother wanted a suitably grand affair for her only son, and Emma was willing to draw out the process if it meant having a wedding that was suitable for a viscount and his bride.

At last, the date approached. On the eve before her wedding, Emma sat up late by candlelight, unable to sleep. She wasn't nervous, but as she tried on her best diamonds in front of her mirror she unexpectedly found herself wondering if she was making a mistake.

Charles Xavier was, in all manners, an ideal choice. He was wealthy, and a fixture of all the best dinners and balls. He was clever, but without ambition that would eclipse her interests. And he was certainly skilled in the bedchamber. Xavier was discreet, as a gentleman should be. But of course, no amount of discretion could quell gossip entirely, and the whispers about the ladies he'd charmed suggested he had a great deal of promise. Any man could purchase sex with a bit of coin, but only a decent lover could purchase it with charm and discretion, particularly from women who had more to lose than gain from such a dalliance.

But was he too clever? Emma had never met another person who had an ability like hers, and she wasn't sure how she felt about no longer being one of a kind. Most of the people at court were dull, with dull minds. Reading their thoughts was starting to lose its novelty. But Xavier intrigued her. She'd sensed from the first moment that she'd never be bored with him.

Still, she hadn't schemed her way into court by satisfying her whims. An interesting husband might keep her entertained and incite passion, but a dull, stupid husband might be easier to steer in the direction she wanted. She wasn't sure she wanted Xavier trying to get in her head.

Then again, she'd always liked a challenge.

* * *

Thanks to Xavier's reputation and his position in the king's court, the wedding was well-attended. If anyone noticed that Emma had curiously few relations and friends present, they seemed not to dwell on it. All attention was on the caliber of the guests, and the new gown that Emma wore. Her diamond necklace twinkled by the light of the candles in the church.

She could see Xavier's breath catch when he first took sight of her. He licked his lips, and his mind was full of desire and impatience. But as they stood side-by-side at the altar, she sensed nervousness from him, as well. She couldn't focus enough to unravel what it meant. Was he beginning to question the extent of her power and ambition? Did he have doubts about their fast courtship? Or was he merely lamenting the loss of his bachelorhood?

Regardless, he said his vows with an unwavering voice, and she smiled as he slipped the small gold band on her finger.

* * *

In the morning, they would depart for Xavier's ancestral estate. It would take nearly a full day to travel there by carriage. Emma had yet to see it in person, but had stolen glimpses from her new husband's mind. She'd already started planning what she would do with it—what sort of landscaping she would commission for the garden, what furniture she would purchase for the parlor. The home had been unoccupied for some years since the death of Xavier's father. His mother preferred to live in the city now, and Xavier had been busy with his studies and activities at court. But Emma was eager to establish a home. With time, she would have her own kind of court of friends, followers, and those who envied her. And she would need a grand home in which to host them.

But they would spend their wedding night in the city. Xavier was loose and unsteady on his feet as they made their way upstairs. Even Emma, who usually felt impeccably composed, was tired from the wine and dancing.

She retreated with her maid to one of the spare bedrooms to take off her gown and corset. Her maid started to take off her diamond necklace, but Emma lifted a hand to stop her.

"Leave it. I want to impress him."

The heavy diamond pendant sat at the top of her cleavage, just above the neckline of her chemise.

When she went to Xavier's bedchamber, she found him similarly undressed down to his shift and sitting in bed. He held a glass of red wine, and more wine sat in a decanter nearby. Emma raised her eyebrows.

"More wine? I hope it doesn't make you sleepy."

Xavier laughed. "Oh, no need to worry about that."

She made her way over to the bed, and he set his glass on the nightstand. He reached for her as she climbed onto the large canopy bed, but she put up a hand to stop him.

"Not quite. I think we should have a word first, as husband and wife. Now that we can speak more frankly with each other."

"I thought you were frank with me already, at least in my head. And I think I've had enough talking for tonight. I feel like I've yelled myself hoarse, trying to be heard over that music. I have a headache."

"You have a headache from all the wine. But don't fret: I'll do the talking. I think you'll find I'm a very agreeable wife. I don't think you'll want anyone else, but if your eye should wander, I won't be angry. At least, not as long as you avoid a scandal and no bastards come out of the woodwork looking for money."

Xavier raised his eyebrows. "You think me lecherous?"

"I think your reputation precedes you, milord, and I married you nonetheless. I'll give you as much or as little freedom as you wish, as long as you do the same for me."

Xavier sat up. "And if you make comments about my character, can I do the same about yours? You're ambitious, secretive, and you believe that if I knew who you _really_ are, I wouldn't have married you. Which, frankly, is a little insulting. Have you already forgotten that I'm like you?"

She smiled. "How could I forget your talent for reading minds?" She was unsure if that was all he meant. As deep as she tried to go into his head, he was still something of an enigma—all brash bon vivant on the outside but harder to read beneath the surface. It was something she was unused to. She could normally read people so clearly.

And were her own defenses holding? She didn't believe that Xavier could read her mind any more than she wanted him to, but could she ever be certain?

Xavier ran the back of his hand across her neck, as light as a feather. He traced his fingers down the chain of diamonds around her neck, all the way down to the pendant between her breasts. "If you ask me, I'm not sure you married me entirely for my title. Or my money."

Emma straddled his lap and placed her hands firmly on his shoulders, pushing him back against the headboard. "In that case, I look forward to learning more about _everything_ you have to offer."

She leaned down to kiss him, tasting the wine on his lips. Perhaps it wasn't such a terrible thing, not being the only clever person in the room.


End file.
